35.
It was raining on the early morning when Sura planned to leave Whiterun. Like a silent ghost, she slipped out of the Dragonsreach, squeezed her small knapsack in her hands and looked straight ahead. Fear was trying to grab its hold on her, but she refused to give it any power. She lived under its shadow long enough. She knew she had to do this, had to leave. For her own sake, to find where she came from and where she belonged. After that, she might be able to return. Return to this home that she cherished so much. As she walked ahead, she looked back just once, briefly. She didn't say goodbyes to anyone; it would only make things harder. Knowing Jarl Balgruuf, he probably wouldn't let her go by herself, not after everything that happened. She turned to look ahead and quickened her pace. If she hesitated now, she wouldn't be able to take the first step.
The city was still sleeping. It was quite early but she wasn't surprised to hear the pounding of a steady hammer from Skyforge. Eorlund was always early. No matter the weather, the cold, or the heat, he was always at his forge, doing what he did best. She felt sorry that she hadn't been able to join him in such a long time. Given the situation, she felt she at least had to visit him. As she walked past Jorrvaskar, for the first time in ages she wondered was Vilkas around. And as his familiar face emerged in front of her mind's eyes, her heart jumped and she remembered all her feelings for him as well. She was glad to notice that those feelings weren't dead. She still loved him but with sad certainty, she knew that Vilkas had probably moved on. After all, he was not a man who lacked a female company. There was someone better for him, someone who was (you are just damaged goods!) kind and virtuous and pure. A warrior like him, who fought with metal and might, not with arcane arts, fire, and lighting.
His image followed her like a mournful shadow as she walked up the stone stairs. Eorlund heard her coming but didn't cease his work. He hadn't seen the Khajiit girl for a long, long time. And now that she appeared at the top of the stairs he recognized the changes in her. She seemed free. Calm, confident, sure of what she was doing. And still - nervous. Sad. But determined to go on. To survive and to grow stronger. These were all good sings. This cold, hard land gave cruel and harsh lessons. Without them, one wouldn't be able to survive. Many didn't but this tough, little creature seemed to have found her strength.
"Eorlund," she greeted him with a smile. "How are you doing?"
"Going somewhere?" he pointed at her knapsack.
"I'm leaving Whiterun," Sura said.
"Without an armor?" Eorlund glanced at her clothes. The thin steel blue tunic wasn't going to protect her out there in the wild. She had a simple leather belt on her waist, long trousers, and sturdy boots. He was mildly amused but mostly worried when he noticed that she didn't have any weapons or shields.
"I'm not going by foot," Sura assured. "There's a carriage leaving from the stables every day..."
"And you think those carriages are safe from bandits and thieves?" he asked. "When you are not within the city walls you are not safe. You of all people should know."
"I came to say goodbye," Sura ignored his comment. "I don't know when I'll return. I just wanted to thank you for everything..."
"No need to thank me," the old man scoffed. "And I'm not the one you should be saying goodbye to."
"What do you mean?" Sura asked and her eyes began to wander around.
"He is not here," Eorlund said. "He has been coming and going like a madman. Never staying for more than a few hours. Such an obedient man as him going against Kodlak's wishes. Even his brother doesn't seem to know what to do. Seems to me that he is trying his best to forget something. Or someone."
"When is he coming back?" Sura grabbed his arm. It had been such a long time since she and Vilkas talked. Since she even saw him. And now...now that she was leaving she realized that she couldn't just go without telling him.
"I don't know," Eorlund shrugged.
"I can't wait for him," Sura shook her head and didn't know what to do. "Will you tell him that I came by? And I'm heading to Riften...in case he wants to know..."
"What am I? A courier for Mara herself?" Eorlund grunted.
She released his hand and took a step back. At that moment she seemed so lost, so confused that Eorlund's heart melted a little and he nodded. Then he sighed, turned and pulled out the package he'd been holding ever since Sura was taken. He cared for the girl, had always liked her. His will to protect her made him take out the most valuable materials he had - the piece of stalhrim he had once acquired from Solstheim. People said only Skaals knew how to work it, but Eorlund was no novice or beginner. He liked his steel but there wasn't a metal or material in Nirn he hadn't tried on at one point. Stalhrim was tough, difficult and stubborn ore, but he bent it to his will like any other mineral he used. He made a protective armored vest and bracers for the wrists and for legs. On top of the package was a small leather pouch and he hesitated for a moment. Vilkas asked him for two rings a long, long time ago. But he never returned to collect them. He didn't know what would happen but the fate of these two people was in the hands of the Divines now. He liked Sura and he liked Vilkas. And the thought of them together, happy and smiling, almost made him smile and remember the days when he and his Fralia were young and in love. It was long overdue, and love in Skyrim was valuable and rare. He didn't say a word as he handed the leather package to her.
"Take care of yourself out there," were his goodbyes. "This one is for you as well," he pointed at the small leather purse.
"What's in it?" Sura asked.
"Vilkas asked me to make something," Eorlund replied. "When you see him, give it back to him."
"But...don't you see him every day..?" Sura tried but Eorlund shook his head.
He patted her on the back, sighed again, walked down the stairs and left her alone at the Skyforge. For the longest time, she stood there holding those small packages. She never expected gifts or anything like this from him. To her, he was always a valued teacher, someone she held in high regard. And he always treated her like his apprentice, never giving praise but always driving her to do better. She opened the larger package. When she saw what was inside she turned around and looked for him. Such valuable gifts, given to her, to her! Why would he? When she was just (damaged goods!) a cat, not even a Nord. But he was nowhere to be seen anymore. Of course, he wouldn't risk seeing her tears and making it all awkward and uncomfortable for both of them. She knew the best way to thank him was to put his gifts to good use. And so while still standing at the shadows of the Skyforge, she slipped the armored vest on and was amazed how stern and secure it felt. At the same time, it was incredibly light to wear. It didn't impede her movements at all. She wore the bracers and when the whole armor was on her, she took a few steps and noticed that it was very easy to move it. Light and durable, invisible but necessary. That's what most of his armors were like. You didn't notice it until you needed it until it saved your life.
She folded the deer pelt and left it on his anvil. At least this way he knew that she appreciated and used his gifts. The smaller pouch was still in her hand and she wondered what was in it. His words echoed in her mind. "Vilkas asked me to make something, when you see him, give it back to him." She considered leaving the pouch on the anvil but she'd dawdled long enough. She sighed and stuffed the pouch inside her knapsack. Now she needed to leave before someone at the Reach would notice her absence.
She hurried through the Market and stopped for a moment in front of the Breezehome. J'Ziir and Lydia left the city a couple of days ago. And like always, neither of them said anything before they were gone. Just the empty house and some rumors told her that once again her famous brother had gone off to some wild adventure and like a small, determined shadow, his housecarl accompanied him.
She wanted to talk to her brother some more, there were some memories she couldn't place. People she wasn't sure existed at all. A few nights ago a strange man entered her dreams and into her childhood. Well, he was not exactly a man, he was more like a redheaded, wild, young beast, laughing like a maniac and always getting into trouble. His hands were magical, he could pick any lock in his way, pickpocket even the best guards and noblemen, almost steal someone's clothes of their backs. He was older than J'Ziir, not much, only a few years. And in her dreams, she called him "elder brother". He laughed at her and said his real name which she couldn't hear. Then he pinched her cheek and said that she was too cute to be his sister. In fact, he intended to marry her when she grew older. She would have liked to ask J'Ziir did he remember that boy or was he only a figment of her imagination. She didn't know where Lydia and J'Ziir had gone and she didn't have any idea how to relay a message to him, to let him know that she was no longer in Whiterun. But she believed that once he came back people of the city would tell him where she was. If he was interested to follow her, he would eventually find her.
Without looking back she walked out of the city gate, took out her small coin purse and counted her gold. It would be enough to get her to Riften and while she was there, it would probably last for a few days. Long enough for her to locate her family's old home and find out what had happened. Determined and feeling surprisingly calm she walked towards the stables. The carriage was there but the driver was nowhere to be seen. Maybe it was too early after all. The rain had nearly stopped, its grey veil was heading towards the North and the morning sun peeked through the clouds. She sat down on the grass near the stables and watched the horses. Most of them were still sleeping, hanging their heads or munching some hay. Only one of them seemed bright and active. It was a black stallion with white socks. She had never seen it before and curiosity got the better of her. She stood up and walked to it. She didn't notice the stallion's owner but he didn't fail to notice her.
Vilkas recognized her immediately when she walked towards the stables. The morning was very quiet and a lone woman out and about was not that hard to spot. He was trying to concentrate on his horse and as he stopped grooming the stallion turned and nudged him on his shoulder. He smiled and patted its back. Her extraordinary armor caught his attention. He had never seen it before, but he recognized Eorlund's work. What surprised him that Eorlund actually made an armor out of something else than steel. And for someone else than a Companion. He knew that Eorlund cared for the girl and he did have extensive knowledge of smithing. Steel wasn't his only material, but it was something he preferred to work with.
Vilkas was out for most of the night, slaying bears and saber cats with Farkas and Aela. For the most part, he kept his beast under control, a long talk with Kodlak helped. They returned on the early hours of the morning and by now his brother and his Shield-Sister were probably already asleep. Well, he chuckled to himself, knowing Farkas he went straight to the Bannered Mare and now he is getting hammered. Or bedding three different women at the same time.
Vilkas' eyes followed Sura as she walked to the carriage. He wondered where she was going. Was she leaving? By herself? That she would wander of alone made him worry and he frowned. If she was heading somewhere, it would be better if someone accompanied her. Like her newly found Dragonborn brother. But like everyone else in Whiterun he also knew that once again J'Ziir was out of the city. So much for that idea, Vilkas sighed. He watched her for a while, unable to tear his gaze away. Her eyes were like deep mountain ponds, too blue and too bright to see the bottom. Her white hair had grown, it circled her face now like a cute soft mane but he could still make out the dark circle that began from the top of her other ear. The line he had once wanted to follow. To know where it ended.
Sura stopped in front of the stall, smiled at the stallion and talked to it with a calm and steady voice. It stopped its restless prancing, its ears twitched and it listened to her. She caressed its silky mane and Vilkas was amused and intrigued to notice that his sturdy, stubborn stallion did not shy away from her. Usually, it was very selective when it came to people it allowed to touch it.
"Where's your owner?" Sura asked from the horse. "Maybe he should take you out for a ride since you are so impatient."
"He has just arrived from a ride," Vilkas couldn't stay silent any longer and he stepped out from the shadows.
Sura raised her eyes. It was him, the one person she really wanted to see. The one person she was afraid she wouldn't be able to see. All these mixed emotions and beneath all of it, a certain feeling of security and serenity. She wasn't afraid or startled. She wasn't angry because he hadn't made his presence known earlier. She was staring at him, devouring him with her eyes, like she couldn't get enough of him. His grey eyes, his dark hair that grew and the overnight stubble on his chin. His silent, strong frame that was covered by the steel armor. Security and tranquility. Tight control of his darker side. That's what she sensed just by looking at him.
"Is he yours?" Sura smiled. "What a beauty."
"Beauty filled with trouble," Vilkas said when his stallion nudged his shoulder. "C'mon, boy. Calm down."
"What's his name?" Sura asked.
"Abaccus," Vilkas said. The stallion turned his head and nudged him again. "Yes, that's you. Too smart to be an animal. Too stupid to be a human."
"I guess his not used to stay in one place for too long," Sura moved her eyes from the horse to its owner. "Like his owner. It's been a long time."
"It has," Vilkas nodded. "I...well...you seem to be doing better. That's good."
What meaningless words those were. He was always praised for his brain and this was literally the first time he found himself at loss for words. He cleared his throat and patted his stallion all the while trying to find something to say.
"I'm leaving Whiterun," Sura explained. "It was good that I saw you here. I wanted to say goodbye."
"Where are you going?" he asked. His voice was a bit too cold and harsh. It wasn't his business...but still...
"Riften," Sura answered. "I was waiting for the driver. Do you know when returns?"
"Are you going by yourself?" Vilkas frowned. "Without any protection or weapons?"
"It's not like I have a choice," Sura said patiently. "If I want to find out more about myself and about my past, I can't just hide in the corners for the rest of my life. I'll think I'll be alright."
Vilkas looked at her, really looked, and tried his best to understand. This was her Sura. But she was also a complete stranger, someone he didn't know. He was so used to seeing the timid little Khajiit girl, a little too shy to say what was on her mind. This new Sura forced him to change his ways and he didn't like it. But all the same, he knew that whether it was the newly found Zahraji or the old familiar Sura, he loved them both. And wanted to keep them safe. It seemed he could not persuade her. And he didn't really see any reason why he should. After all, wasn't finding her past something that she wanted for years. It would not be right of him to stop her now. And like Eorlund before him, he decided to help. He turned to his stallion and saddled him. He wasn't worried for his horse, it was used to riding long distances with little rest.
"Are you also leaving?" Sura asked when she noticed him putting on the bridle. If you are going now, how can I tell you...anything...about anything...
He smiled at her and walked his stallion out. He jumped on his horse and calmed the animal down, it was ready for another ride in this cold, unforgiving land. Like him, it had experienced the snow, the freezing tundras and the chilling icy water of the rivers. Like him, it had seen the golden autumn leaves of Riften, and the lush forests of Falkreath. And not once neither the stallion nor its owner backed down. He eventually looked down on her from the saddle and then he held out his hand.
"Get on," he said.
"What?" Sura was baffled.
"The carriage isn't leaving for hours," Vilkas said. "Trust me, I know. And before you even have a chance to step on it, the Jarl will probably send someone after you and prevent you from going. Would you rather wait here for that moment or go together with me?"
What he said was true and accurate, Sura admitted. But going together with him...she wasn't sure how this journey of hers would end. Endearing him wasn't something she wanted.
"You can think of me as your personal bodyguard," Vilkas offered. "Pay me. I am a Companion, after all. That's what I do."
"How much do you charge then?" Sura asked warily.
"500 Septims," Vilkas answered and his voice was serious and stern. "That's the standard fee."
"I don't have that much," Sura frowned.
"I'll give you a discount," Vilkas grabbed her hand and pulled her up effortlessly. When the horse moved beneath them, she instinctively grabbed his shoulders to stay on. When he glanced back, she avoided his eyes and cleared her throat.
"You'll need to hold on better than that," he said, took her hands and wrapped them around his waist. "If I'm going to protect you, letting you fall of the horse in the first few meters wouldn't look too good now, would it?"
She didn't answer but didn't remove her hands either. She was closer to him than she had been in months and as the familiar scent of lavender and tundra cotton filled his senses, Vilkas smiled to himself. As the sun climbed higher to the now clear sky, he urged his stallion to move. Within minutes they were on the road.